Interfice Errorem, Diligere Errantem
by ninja-hamsters
Summary: ATLANTIS/SG-1 CROSSOVER / Cameron Mitchell returns from being MIA
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: Stargate SG-1/Stargate Atlantis

Genre: Slash

Pairing: John Sheppard/Cameron Mitchell

Warnings: Sex, swearing

Prompts: Mpreg, Johnwhump

Summary: John's on temporary reassignment on Earth.

Notes: Written for tzzzz for the John/Cameron thing-a-thon over at sg_flyboys on LJ. Thanks to curia_regis for the amazing beta.

-.-

"General, I think there's a mistake on the mission schedule."

General Landry looked up from his paperwork at the interruption. "Colonel Mitchell, vigilant as always." He waved Cameron into the office. "What's the problem?"

Cameron held up the printed sheet. "It says here that Colonel Sheppard is standing in for Carter for our mission to PY7-592 at 1300 hours tomorrow."

Landry leaned on his elbows on the table. "And?"

Cameron paused. "Colonel Sheppard. Of the Atlantis mission."

"I am aware of who Colonel Sheppard is, Mitchell." Landry said as he raised his eyebrows.

Cameron glanced sideways. "So, shouldn't he be in another galaxy, sir?"

Landry leaned back in his chair. "He's on a temporary reassignment." He explained. "He requested time on the home-world and he was granted it. Is there a problem, Colonel?"

"No, no problem." Cameron shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "But, shouldn't there have been a memo or something?"

"Minor reassignments don't get memos." Landry replied simply then added: "In my experience, by the time people have read them, the personnel have already moved on."

"Right..." Cameron hesitated, partly because he knew how true that was. "So, is he on base?" He tried to ask casually.

Landry frowned in thought. "I saw him in the mess hall a while ago, he could still be there." Cameron turned to leave. "I didn't know you knew Colonel Sheppard." He added, stopping Cameron.

"Uh, yes, sir." Cameron coughed to mask a small flush. "We had a posting together before I joined the 302 program. We kept in touch."

Landry nodded, satisfied, and waved Cameron out of the office before returning to his paperwork.

...

"You could have told me you were coming back to Earth." Cameron sat heavily in the chair opposite John Sheppard at a table in the mess hall. John looked up from his meal (mashed potatoes and mystery meat, again) and gave him a lopsided smirk.

"I could have. But then it wouldn't have been a surprise,"

"A surprise? Hell yeah it's a surprise." Cameron's heart was beating a little faster than usual and, not for the first time, wondered how John could look so laid back and in control. "A little warning would have been nice. An email or something."

John narrowed his eyes. "Do you know the definition of 'surprise'?"

"Yes, and you didn't do a very good job of it if I had to come and find you."

"But you _were_ surprised." He pointed out, leaning forward a fraction.

Cameron paused. "Well, yes."

"Then it worked." John leant back into his chair with a smug look on his face.

Cameron shook his head slowly. "I hate you sometimes."

John laughed. "But you love me the rest of the time."

"I wouldn't go that far." Cameron countered with a smile, making John pout in mock hurt. He glanced at his watch. "I'm off at 1800. Wanna get out of here?"

"Sure." John replied with a small shrug and a smile.

...

"Where are we going?" John asked when he noticed they weren't heading towards  
Cameron's apartment. "You haven't moved have you?"

"Jeez, John. You haven't been around for years and you still know where I live?" He laughed. "Nah, I'm still at the same place but I'm sharing with Sam. After she came back from Area 51 she didn't get her own place. Then she went to Atlantis and she never got around to finding one when she came home."

"Makes sense I guess." John agreed. "How is she, by the way?"

"She's fine, yeah." Cameron replied. "Still working too hard, though. Some nights I have to literally pry her away from her lab."

John smiled. "Yup, sounds like the same old Sam." He said fondly. "So where are we going?"

"There's a drive-in showing 'Men in Black' at the park." Cameron replied. "I wasn't going to go because I didn't have a date..."

"Bullshit, Cam!" John laughed. "You _love_ that film. I'm sure Sam would have gone with you."

Cameron shook his head. "Sam puts up with a lot of my crap without having to sit through a movie she hates."

John dropped his jaw comically. "What? How can she _not like_ 'Men in Black'?"

Cameron shrugged. "She says it's because she knows what's really going on out there."

"It's just a film." John said and raised an eyebrow.

"That's what _I_ said. Personally, I think it's just to get out of listening to me quoting the whole thing."

"Then why am I being subjected to the punishment?"

Cameron laughed. "One; because I haven't seen you in so long it's embarrassing, and two; you know all the lines too."

"Fair point." He said, nodding. John looked sideways at Cameron. "So, what's Sam doing tonight then?" He asked thoughtfully.

"Uh, she mentioned something about working on something back at base. Again." He rolled his eyes.

"So... the flat's gonna be empty?" John asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Cameron grinned and shook his head slowly.

...

"A neuraliser would be _so_ much less paperwork than non-disclosure agreements," Cameron said on the way back to the house after the film. The lack of alcohol had forced them to drink sugar-filled soda drinks and they'd both eaten their bodyweight in sweets during the movie. The conversation on the drive home so far had most definitely been fuelled by their sugar highs.

John laughed. "Weird shit happens in Pegasus all the time. No paperwork at all."

"Yeah, I might just have to get transferred to Atlantis." Cameron laughed.

"Now that would be interesting." John agreed. "Wonder what Caldwell would think of that."

"Guy's got a whole goddamn spaceship to himself. _I_ wouldn't complain."

John frowned. "I thought you preferred the fighters."

"Yeah." Cameron agreed. "But it's a _spaceship_! I've wanted to fly a spaceship since I was a kid! It's the ultimate of cool."

They laughed and Cameron pulled up outside the house.

"Here we are."

"You haven't changed it at all." John said as they got out the car.

Cameron shrugged. "There's not really much time for home improvements. And we're not exactly here all that much."

"I guess not." John followed Cameron into the house. They passed through the narrow hallway and into the lounge.

"Got beer?" John asked as he slumped onto the old grey sofa.

"You really have to ask?" Cameron replied with a smile, passing a bottle over before joining John on the sofa.

John laughed. "We did call you 'Bartender' for a reason." He took a long drink from the bottle. "I don't think any of us woulda got through that tour without your stash. You definitely earned that call-sign."

"Yeah." Cameron smiled in memory. "Can't believe the Colonel never picked up on that one."

"You kidding?" John raised his eyebrows and laughed. "They all thought the sun shone out your ass. You coulda got away with anything."

"Yeah, a regular Golden Boy." Cameron sighed. "But we both got away with a lot." He took a drink and hooked an arm over the back of the sofa, looking down at the corner of the rug he was toying with with his toe. He tried not to think about what could have happened to both of them if anyone had ever found out about his and John's late night rendezvous.

John gave him a long look. "We did."

Cameron glanced over. John was watching him, waiting patiently at the other end of the old sofa. John had never been good at talking, and Cameron had never been good at reading his silent communications. He'd never mentioned to John that 'Don't ask, don't tell' didn't mean they weren't supposed to talk to each other about it either. Cameron doubted it would have changed anything.

Cameron cleared his throat. "Still in the business?" He asked, trying a different tactic.

John's face softened a little, working out what game Cameron was playing. "Sales took a nosedive in McMurdo. Small market."

Cameron smiled. "Tell me about it. What about Atlantis?"

John's clenched his jaw. "Conflict of interest."

"Right." Cameron looked away. John was Military Leader on Atlantis with a marked background; of course he was keeping his nose clean in that respect. Cameron opened his mouth to speak when he felt John's hand on top of his on the back of the sofa.

"Willing to come out of retirement, though." John said and gave Cameron a cocky smile.

"You like what I'm selling?" Cameron asked smugly.

John took this as a signal and shifted closer to Cameron. "Limited market." He explained with a smile.

Cameron put a hand on his chest and stuck his bottom lip out. "Ouch. That hurt."

John shook his head with a smile and leaned in. His lips covered Cameron's softly and Cameron made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. Taking this as encouragement, John deepened the kiss and reached a hand up to Cameron's bristly hair.

"Well." Cameron said, smirking when they came up for air. "Someone's missed me."

"Like you wouldn't believe." John breathed back and nipped along Cameron's jaw line, making him hiss out when John reached the sensitive spot on his neck. 


	2. Chapter 2

It was another two weeks before Mitchell was discharged from the infirmary, just enough leg strength from physiotherapy to move himself around with only a walking stick. He'd developed panic attacks when left alone, so a nurse or marine was always accompanying him when John wasn't available.

John was in Weir's office when he saw the now-gangly man hobble out of the transporter. It was beyond strange to see a man who'd always been muscular become so thin; it was as though part of his personality was missing. His frame was still there, but his wide shoulders low looked absurd.

John all but ran to meet him, smiling widely seeing him up and about at last. He stopped just before he reached him, the empty look he gave John made the bottom fall out of his stomach.

"Mitchell? What's up?" he tried to sound casual.

"Hey, Sheppard," he replied vaguely, his little uncertain smile flickering across his face, "Keller said I should start exercising more,"

John frowned. "You look exhausted. You've come a long way on your first day out," he nodded to the outside doors, "Why don't we go have a rest,"

Mitchell shrugged noncommittally but followed him anyway, and if the grateful sigh when he eased himself onto the bench by the railings was anything to go by, he needed the rest more than he would admit. They stared out into the infinite ocean for a long time. John really wasn't good at this kind of thing. He'd known more than his fair share of traumatized soldier. Hell, he'd been one more than once. He'd been captured, tortured, deprived of everything, taken to within an inch of his life and brought back again. And he'd seen strong men disappear behind their staring eyes, forever lost within their own minds. Mitchell was going down that path, and he had to get off of it.

"Cam," John broke the silence, "If there's anything anyone can do, anything I can do, to get you back-"

"'Get me back'?" Mitchell repeated, "I am back. I'm still me up here," he tapped his skull.

"Being you up there isn't enough, Cam," John said quietly, "You need to be you out here, too," he turned to look at him, "I need you to be you out here,"

Mitchell's chin sank to his chest, staring at his hands. It broke John's heart to see him like this, it really did, but all he could do was say nothing and look out across the water.

-===-

Mitchell had been assigned his own quarters just like all the other personnel, but he hadn't really used them since the very beginning of the expedition. Once things had settled down a little, he and John had started sneaking around again, alternating between their rooms to try to throw people off any scent. But in the small city they were quickly found out and soon the whole expedition knew. And it turned out not to be such a bad thing after all, and they ended up adopting John's quarters as theirs.

So as to help returned personnel return to normal expedition life, they were allowed their own space, they're own quarters as soon as possible. But with Mitchell not able to be left alone, Keller had suggested (with a deep blush) that it may be best for him to return to sleeping in John's room again, at least until the panic attacks reduced in intensity and frequency, if they ever did.

John had been nervous the whole day before Mitchell's first night out of the infirmary. His heart had been pounding in his chest with excitement whenever he thought about it. But when he stepped into his room, with Mitchell just sitting there on the bed waiting for him, a great sense of relief washed over him.

Mitchell smiled up at him with that new shy smile of his and turned his head away. John followed his gaze to the marine standing by the table, who he hadn't noticed.

"Thank you, Private," John nodded to the young man, "You're dismissed," he missed the snapped salute and the stomped exit, looking at Mitchell and his skinny hands clutching the sheets.

"So," John grinned, "They finally let you out, huh?"

Mitchell smiled and shrugged. "Yep. Apparently I'm not crazy after all,"

John laughed. "Good to hear," he leant down to kiss him, "I've missed you, Cam,"

"Me too," he smiled and hitched himself back on the bed, looking up at John as he lay down on his side.

"Well someone's being subtle," John rolled his eyes but crawled onto the bed so he was lying next to him.

Mitchell kissed him somewhat cautiously at first; like he was riding a bike for the first time in years and was realising the memory was still there after all, but it soon became slow and tender.

John stroked along Mitchell's side, trying not to grimace at the feel of his ribs and hip bone still sticking out so prominently. He slipped his hand down to Mitchell's crotch and brushed his half-hard cock with his fingers. To his surprise, Mitchell reeled back as far as possible without falling off the bed, eyes wide in terror, breathing heavily.

"Oh, God, Cam," John held up his hands in defence, "I'm sorry. Are you alright? Do you want me to get Keller?"

"No," Mitchell breathed, "I'm sorry. I guess – I guess I'm not ready for-"

"It's OK, Cam, really, it's fine, don't worry," he reached out a hand but took it back at the look in Mitchell's eyes, "We'll just- We'll just get some sleep, alright?"

Mitchell nodded and they silently stripped to their boxers and got under the covers. John waited to see if Mitchell wanted to be close or have his own space. When he turned away from him and pulled himself as far away from John as possible, John nodded to himself and did the same.

John's eyes snapped open, wide awake at the sensation. It was pitch black in the room, still night outside. He was cold; the bed covers were gone, as were his shorts. He tried to sit up but a bony hand pinned him down with surprising strength. He could just about make out Mitchell's face looming above him in the dark.

"Cam?" John croaked. Some light from somewhere glinted off his teeth like some gruesome cliché and John started to feel sick. He could still feel the sensation that woke him. A finger. Working him.

"Cam, I thought-"

The hand pinning his chest down moved to his mouth, covering it with a cold sweaty palm. John tried not to panic, but dread was welling up and he almost gagged. His eyes had adjusted to the minimal light and he could see Mitchell's face; forced grin, glazed eyes.

He was dreaming. Or having a nightmare. Or something. Mitchell had felt him up in his sleep before, but this was different. Very different.

The fingers withdrew and the hand left his mouth. He felt relief again, Mitchell had finished, he'd wake up, or go back to regular dreaming. The relief was short lived as John felt himself be flipped onto his stomach and man-handled so his knees were tucked underneath him. This was feeling so surreal that John was beginning to think this could all be a strange dream on his part. One he'd store away forever. Mitchell didn't like role-playing, and especially not one like this.

But the fingers were back, stretching him the last bit before they were replaced by the girth of Mitchell's cock. John cried out at the sharp sting of the unsympathetic thrust. He hadn't had Mitchell inside of him in so long, and his muscles were out of practice. In response to the noise, the hand reappeared over his mouth, pressing hard as Mitchell used it to brace himself as he thrust deeper.

The thrusts sped up, Mitchell pumping hard and fast. He was groaning with pleasure somewhere above John, getting closer and closer to climax. He grunted then sighed, driving deep and slow before pulling out completely. John sensed him moving away from him and rolling back onto the bed.

John stayed where he was; eyes squeezed shut from the pain and shock, Mitchell's semen dripping down his thigh. He opened his eyes and glanced over at the dark form lying there, sleeping soundly. John uncurled himself slowly and carefully. Once standing up, John realised how much he was shaking. His gut squeezed and he stumbled to the bathroom just in time to vomit in the toilet, gripping the bowl with pale and shaking hands.

-===-

"You want Colonel Mitchell to return to the infirmary?"

John tried not to look Keller in the eyes. "That's right. I think he needs a little more time under supervision," he paused, "he had a nightmare last night,"

"A nightmare?" Keller asked dubiously, glancing to the other side of the infirmary where Mitchell was having his check-up.

"Yes," John grimaced, "A – physical nightmare,"

"Oh," she sounded genuinely concerned, "Are you alright?"

"I'll be fine," he tried to wave away the question but he thought the grimace might have come through in his voice.

"Colonel, look at me," the tone of her voice was serious and John reluctantly settled his eyes on hers.

"Colonel, you are not fine," her face was dead serious now. John had no idea how his face gave him away, but this woman was good. "Come and sit down here,"

He followed her to a bed and lay down as she closed the curtains for privacy. She started running some standard tests, concentration forming aging lines on her young face.

"So," she said after a minute, "can you tell me what happened?"

John closed his eyes, and was grateful she didn't push the question when he didn't respond immediately. After a few moments he reopened his eyes.

"It's not his fault," he said.

Keller waited for more before she replied. "No one's saying it is. Colonel Mitchell has been through a lot. We don't know where he's been all this time, but something has definitely changed him,"

John sucked in a deep breath. "Cameron. He – attacked me. Last night,"

"Ok," Keller casually prompted.

"He attacked me – sexually," John closed his eyes so he didn't see the reaction, but he heard the slight interruption in Keller's methodical motions.

"Colonel Mitchell sexually abused you last night?" she confirmed, sounding unsure. John's eyes snapped open.

"He didn't mean it," he defended quickly, "He was dreaming. I could see he was dreaming,"

"It's alright, Colonel," Keller reassured, "I believe you. Of course," she sighed, "with this information, it's my duty to make sure Colonel Mitchell is not left alone with you at any time. And Doctor Heightmeyer will need to treat him,"

John nodded. "If that's what's needed, that's what has to be done," he looked Keller dead in the eyes, "Cam – he's not a bad guy. I don't believe that anything could be so evil to take away that man's heart,"

Keller smiled a little. "With you helping him, I'm sure he'll get through this,"

John lay back and looked up to the ceiling, "Interfice errorem, diligere errantem,"

John could see her translating before she smiled. "Kill the sin, love the sinner."


End file.
